


Surviving

by Mickey_McKeown



Series: Surviving [1]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post Season 10, Sasha Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickey_McKeown/pseuds/Mickey_McKeown
Summary: AU from the end of episode 6 of season 10. A ‘fix-it’, if you will, from a fan of both Ruth and Sasha. Posted on fanfiction.net years ago.
Relationships: Callum Reed & Sasha Gavrik, Ruth Evershed/Harry Pearce
Series: Surviving [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872895
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my first fanfictions which I posted on fanfiction.net in around 2012. I’m a lover of hurt/comfort and I love Sasha Gavrik (even all these years later, he’s still my number one).
> 
> It has been minimally edited, and I hope you will forgive some youthful lack of style!

Harry's hands shook as he felt for a pulse at the base of her neck and he thought he might faint when he felt the weak beat skip under his fingers. Ruth... His Ruth was alive.

"Callum where's that damn helicopter?" he demanded of the techie.

"They say it should nearly be here... I can hear it now!" Callum's voice was jubilant, relief infusing every syllable, though his voice was partially drowned out by the noise from the blades of the approaching helicopter. It landed near to the group, Harry, Dimitri and Erin huddled over Ruth and Callum standing slightly apart by Sasha who lay on the ground, watching the scene unfold in horror of what he had done. The paramedics ran over, one to Ruth and the other to Sasha. He rejected the man's help immediately.

"You need to help her! Go!"

"Sir..."

"Go! She's dying!"

The paramedic hovered for a second, apparently doubtful, but a shout from his partner sent him running to Ruth's side.

"She's crashing!"

Sasha's eyes widened in horror and he struggled to get to his feet but fell back. Callum had turned to go to Ruth's side but Sasha's voice pulled him back.

"Help me up."

"Look, mate..."

"Please, just do it!"

Callum raised his eyebrows but took hold of Sasha's arm and helped him to his feet. Sasha staggered, but, with Callum's help, made his way to the group surrounding Ruth. The medics wee working frantically to save her life, staunching the bleeding and trying to rouse her. Harry and Erin were too absorbed in watching the paramedics transfer Ruth to a stretcher to notice Callum and Sasha approach, Sasha's arm draped over Callum's shoulders, Callum supporting most of the FSB officer's weight; however, Dimitri's arm shot out, causing the two of them to stagger to a stop. Sasha gasped in pain at the sudden movement and Callum spared him a glance of concern before glaring at Dimitri.

"Just let us see Ruth."

Dimitri snorted. "Have you forgotten who stabbed her?"

Callum opened his mouth to reply but one of the paramedics interrupted. "What caused this?" he inquired, indicating the wound in Ruth's torso.

Harry and Erin shared a glance but it was Sasha who answered. "It was a piece of glass."

Harry started as though he had only just noticed the young Russian. The paramedic looked up briefly and nodded then returned his attention to his patient.

"We need to move. Sir, are you coming with us?" This was directed at Harry who nodded mutely. They headed towards the helicopter as the four other spies watched them go.

A yell from Callum stopped them in their tracks.

"Wait!"

Dimitri and Erin also glanced towards the source of the shout, to see Sasha collapse and fall bonelessly to the ground. Callum knelt next to him and shook his shoulder, none too gently, but got no response.

The paramedics loaded Ruth into the helicopter, and then one of them sprinted back to the others.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside Sasha.

Callum answered. "He was shot in the stomach about 20 minutes ago. He just collapsed."

The paramedic nodded, glanced at the helicopter and appeared to make a decision. He spoke into a radio. "Take Miss Evershed to the hospital. I'll call this in and have another helicopter pick us up."

With a whirring of blades, the helicopter took off. They watched it leave and the paramedic returned his attention to Sasha.

"Will Ruth be alright?" Erin asked as the paramedic felt for a pulse at Sasha's neck and pressed a wad of gauze against the heavily bleeding wound in his abdomen.

"I can't really say at the moment," he replied distractedly, focused on the task at hand. "The punctured lung is a serious injury but if she makes it to the hospital then she has a good chance."

Erin let out a breath of relief and Callum nodded, absorbing the information. "What about him?" he asked, indicating Sasha.

"He has lost a lot of blood and I'm fairly sure that he has some serious injuries. I'm amazed that he managed to remain conscious for so long. His condition is deteriorating quickly with blood loss, and due to the position of the wound, he'll need major surgery. The quicker the helicopter arrives, the better." The paramedic spoke quickly, directing his words at Callum, the only one who had shown any concern for his patient.

Callum nodded again and turned to Dimitri and Erin. "Don't you think someone ought to tell Minister Gavrik that his son is injured?"

They shared a glance. They had completely forgotten about the Russian politician.

"I'll go," Dimitri volunteered. He headed back to the old MOD bunker. He headed for the chamber that had held Elena Gavrik. "Minister?" he called. He saw Gavrik, still inside the chamber, cradling his wife's body. He looked up at the sound of Dimitri's footsteps.

"Where is Sasha?" he asked. "He left... He is angry with me."

Dimitri cleared his throat. "Minister, there was an incident. You son is injured."

Gavrik stared at him. "Sasha? Injured? But how..?"

Dimitri interrupted him. "Minister, there is a paramedic with him now. Will you come with me?"

Gavrik nodded, a glassy look in his eyes. Dimitri almost felt sorry for him. He had just discovered that his wife was a traitor, his son was hurt... Everything was falling apart for the ex-KGB agent. "Yes. I must see my son."

Dimitri led the way out of the bunker to where he had left his co-workers and Sasha. Gavrik rushed to his son's side. He fell to his knees and his hand grasped Sasha's shoulder. His son's eyelids flickered at the contact and Gavrik gasped.

"Sasha... Do not try to move. You will be fine." He glanced at the paramedic as he spoke these last words, as though to verify their honesty.

The paramedic reacted instantly to his patient's renewed consciousness. "Sir, listen to me. There is a helicopter on its way. You need to try to stay awake."

Sasha's eyes were glazed and unfocused but they sharpened immediately as he saw Callum. His hand shot out and grabbed the techie's wrist. "Ruth..." He coughed and then gasped in pain. His voice was hoarse and painful. "Is she...Is she alright?"

"Look, calm down," Callum tried to reassure the injured man. The attempt failed; the weak grip on his arm tightened and Sasha struggled to sit up. He only managed to lift his shoulders from the ground and the pain was evident on his face but he continued.

"Tell me! Is she alive?"

Callum looked slightly nervous but answered. "Yes, they're probably at the hospital now. She'll be fine."

Sasha fell back to the grass as he was once again overcome by the weakness the blood loss caused. Ilya Gavrik tightened his grip on his son' shoulder.

"Stay awake, Sasha. Talk to me," he pleaded.

Sasha's eyes slipped closed, despite his father's urging and his head fell back as he gave in to unconsciousness.

"Sasha!" Gavrik called his son's name desperately, trying to encourage him to open his eyes. His knuckles were white with the strength of his grip on Sasha's shoulder.

"We're losing him!"

The paramedic's worried voice caused the minister's head to snap up. "No..." he breathed.

"Sir, you need to move," the paramedic ordered, firmly moving him out of the way.

The Russian could only watch helplessly as the paramedic attempted to revive his only son, the only family he had left. Sasha's body arced off the ground as the paramedic used the defibrillator to try to restart his heart. Gavrik let out a choked sob when there was no response and looked away as the paramedic employed the defibrillator again. The paramedic let out a sigh of relief as he felt the beat of a pulse at Sasha's neck. Callum caught the Russian minister when the man's knees gave way as the paramedic said, "We've got him back."

Once again the team of spooks heard the roar of a helicopter announce the arrival of the air ambulance. The medics worked with practised efficiency as they moved Sasha onto a stretcher and rushed him towards the waiting chopper. Gavrik hurried after them and the three remaining members of Section D watched the helicopter become airborne before heading towards the Range Rover that had brought them to the MOD bunker. Erin pulled out her phone as Dimitri drove away from the prohibited area.

"Harry. We'll be with you in half an hour." She waited for his response then spoke again. "Right. Thank you." She hung up and addressed her colleagues. "Ruth's in surgery. The doctors think that she'll be fine."

Dimitri smiled. "That's great. Now let's get the hell out of here. I never want to see that place again."

Callum sighed and nodded. "Amen to that."


	2. Chapter 2

To Harry, the short trip to the hospital felt like it took hours, though the time was really only measurable in minutes. He held on to Ruth's hand for the duration of the journey, despite the protests of the paramedic. Said paramedic had been frantically buzzing around the stretcher that held Ruth during the journey, trying to keep her alive. He had told Harry that if she could stay alive long enough for the doctors at the hospital to operate then she had a good chance of survival. Harry's relief at that statement had been overwhelming but it was tainted with worry. He knew that there was a very real chance of Ruth dying on the way to the hospital.

Now, however, he sat in the waiting room, hoping for news of Ruth's survival, dreading news to the contrary. In a way, he reflected, waiting here was worse than doing so in the helicopter. Here, he had no contact with Ruth, his Ruth, who could be dying without him to hold her hand. He knew deep down that this was irrational, that the doctors needed to do their jobs without him to hinder them but it was hard to think logically at such a time. He put his head in his hands and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to rub away the images of Ruth, bloody and dying on the grass outside the MOD bunker.

The sound of footsteps brought Harry from his reverie and he looked up to see Ilya Gavrik enter the waiting room. Harry stared at him; he looked utterly defeated. However, Harry was spared from speaking to Gavrik any more by the arrival of Erin, Dimitri and Callum.

"Harry, how's Ruth?" Erin asked breathlessly.

"I don't know yet," he replied. "No-one has told me anything."

"Don't worry, Harry," Dimitri put in. "Ruth's tough, she'll pull through." Callum and Erin nodded in agreement.

"We need to return to the Grid," Erin said. "Call us as soon as you know something."

The three spooks filed out, leaving Harry and Ilya alone again. Harry glanced at Gavrik. He was staring at the ground, his body language no longer confident and arrogant. It was as though all of his success had been stripped away, leaving only a terrified father, threatened with the possibility of losing his son. Here in this small room, they were not spy and politician, British and Russian. They were just two people waiting for news of loved ones.

Gavrik spoke quietly. "I am sincerely sorry about Ruth. I hope she is alright."

Harry nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

"I know you probably cannot forgive Sasha," Gavrik continued. His voice shook. "But he is my son, the only family I have left." Gavrik's voice broke and he cleared his throat. "It never gets any easier, does it? Waiting for news, knowing that all you can do is hope for their survival. After last time, I begged Sasha to be more careful. I can't lose my son." His eyes flooded with tears and he choked on a sob.

Harry's curiosity would not allow him to remain silent. "Last time?"

Gavrik took a deep breath, calming himself, and nodded. "An operation in Russia. Sasha was shot. I was in St Petersburg at the time. The hospital called me to tell me that he was injured. I got there as quickly as I could. Sasha had already been in surgery for four hours. Elena and I waited for another five." Gavrik faltered a little as he spoke his wife's name but he continued. "According to the doctors, the bullet had passed within an inch of his heart. He was unconscious for a week. I had lost hope that he would survive. When he woke up, I made him promise that I would not come so close to losing him again."

Harry glanced at Gavrik and was shocked to see tears flowing down his cheeks. On impulse, he put his hand on Gavrik's shoulder. He felt sorry for the man. They were both in the same boat; both had people they loved in the hospital. Yes, Sasha had stabbed Ruth but in his mind, she had been a main part of the death of his mother. Harry had not entirely forgiven the FSB officer but, seeing Ilya's fear and grief, he no longer hoped for his death.

"If he is as stubborn as you, Ilya, he will survive. They both will." Harry locked eyes with Gavrik, trying to reassure the Russian.

Gavrik offered a weak smile. "He is more stubborn."

Harry laughed quietly. "Then he will be up and about within days."

"Let's hope so," Gavrik replied. "From what I have seen of Ruth, I believe she is equally stubborn. I have no doubt that she will be alright."

Harry nodded. "I hope you're right."

They both looked up at the sound of someone entering the waiting room.

"Who is here for Miss Evershed?" the doctor asked as he approached the two men.

Harry's heart leapt and he stood shakily. "Is she..? How is she?"

The doctor smiled. "She's going to be fine. We repaired the damage and replenished the blood lost. She's in recovery now; you can see her in about fifteen minutes."

Harry could feel the grin spread across his face as relief shattered any emotional control he had. "Thank you. I never thought I'd say this, but thank god for the NHS." His smile faded slightly as he remembered Ilya Gavrik. "Do you have any information about Sasha Gavrik?"

The doctor shook his head. "I can ask a nurse to come and update you, if you wish?"

"Thank you, doctor." Harry returned to his seat next to Gavrik.

"I am glad to hear that Ruth is okay," Gavrik said quietly.

Harry smiled. "Thank you. You should have some news of Sasha soon."

As he spoke, a nurse approached them. "Minister Gavrik? I have an update about your son."

Gavrik stood. "Is he out of surgery yet?"

The nurse shook her head. "No, not yet. The bullet did extensive damage, so it will be a while before the surgery is over. Our surgeons are very good, though, and they are working hard to save your son."

"What are his chances?" Gavrik asked shakily.

The nurse bit her lip. "I can't honestly say. Your son's condition is very serious but if he makes it through surgery he should have a good chance."

Harry stood next to Gavrik. "Thank you," he told the nurse when Gavrik didn't speak. She smiled sympathetically and left them alone again. "Ilya..."

Once again, he was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor. "We have transferred Miss Evershed to a room. You can go and see her now."

Gavrik glanced at Harry. "Go. You need to see her."

Harry nodded and followed the doctor, sparing a glance behind him at Gavrik who had sunk back into his chair with his head in his hands. He shook his head and looked away, trailing behind the doctor who stopped outside a room.

"She should wake up soon," the doctor informed him. "Visiting hours end in about an hour so you can stay until then." He smiled and left.

Harry opened the door to Ruth's hospital room and entered. Ruth lay on a bed in the centre of the room. She was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV but she looked far better than she had at the MOD bunker. He sat down in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, took her hand and waited.


	3. Chapter 3

A slight pressure against his fingers was the first indication of Ruth's renewed wakefulness. Suddenly alert, Harry sat bolt upright in the uncomfortable chair and watched eagerly as Ruth's eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing her beautiful eyes, the eyes that had captivated him all those years ago.

"Harry," she breathed, and his heart leapt with relief, joy and love.

"Ruth, are you okay? Are you in pain? Shall I get the doctor? Or the nurse?"

"Harry, one question at a time, please? You're making my head hurt."

Harry looked guilty. "Sorry. How are you feeling?"

Ruth smiled slightly. "Sore but alive. Which is definitely a surprise." She bit her lip. "I thought I was going to die."

Harry swallowed painfully as his throat constricted. "So did I," he admitted in a small voice.

Ruth met his eyes and he was shocked to see them filling with tears. "Harry, what I said... That we weren't meant to have a normal life..."

"Ruth..."

"No, Harry, listen. I didn't mean it. I didn't want you to live your life thinking about what might have been if I died. I'm sorry."

"Ruth..." Harry looked away, trying to compose himself. When he looked back, Ruth's eyes were still fixed on him. "I love you," he blurted out, all eloquence gone. His face reddened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Ruth's smile grew. "Stupid man," she murmured. "I love you, too, Harry."

Harry looked nonplussed. "You... Really?"

Ruth laughed. "Harry, you really are the most difficult man sometimes. Yes, really. Of course I love you."

Harry searched for the right words, but all he could come up with was, "Oh."

Ruth shook her head slightly. "Harry..." Her smile dropped as a thought occurred to her. "Harry, Erin and the others, are they okay? Was anyone else hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "No, they're all fine. The only other person injured was Sasha. He's still in surgery." Ruth's eyes searched his. "Ilya is devastated. We were waiting together. I felt sorry for him."

"You felt sorry for Gavrik?" Ruth asked, a tinge of hurt colouring her voice.

"He has lost almost everything he cared about today," Harry said softly. "Sasha is the only person he has left and he may not survive."

The atmosphere in the small room had become very heavy. Harry met Ruth's eyes, staring directly at her.

"Ruth, I need you to be completely honest with me about something."

She looked confused. "Of course. What's wrong?"

"Ruth, do I look like a tortoise?"

She spluttered. "What? Where on earth did that come from?"

"Ilya told me that I looked like his tortoise."

Ruth pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep a straight face. "Only when you pout. Like that."

Harry tried to look insulted but failed and they shared a laugh. The oppressive seriousness in the room evaporated, replaced by a comfortable silence. The door opened and a doctor entered.

"Miss Evershed, I'm glad to see you awake. Visiting hours are now over, Mr Pearce, you can come back tomorrow."

Harry glanced at Ruth who nodded. "Go. Get some rest. I'll still be here in the morning."

He smiled and nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you." It was easier to say now that he knew the feeling was reciprocated. He left the room with one more glance at Ruth.

At first he contemplated going home, but the thought of the empty house and being alone with his thoughts dissuaded him and he found himself heading towards the waiting room where Ilya still sat. He looked up as Harry entered.

"How is she?"

"She's awake. I think she's going to be fine. Any word on Sasha?"

Ilya shook his head. "No. All I can hope is that no news is good news."

Harry sat down next to his old acquaintance and they waited in silence.

It was another two hours before a doctor approached them. Ilya's head snapped up and Harry saw his knuckles turn white as his hands clenched into fists.

"Minister Gavrik?" the doctor asked and Ilya nodded. Harry scanned the doctor's face, trying to discern any clues as to whether the news was good or bad. His face was serious and gave nothing away. "Your son is alive." At these words, all the tension left Ilya and a sob of relief escaped his lips. "However, his condition is still critical. He has been moved to a room in ICU. I can allow you five minutes to see him but no more."

Ilya nodded and stood unsteadily. Harry stood as well, putting a hand on Gavrik's shoulder to steady him. He followed the Russian minister and the doctor, unsure as to why he wanted to see the man who had stabbed his Ruth. They stopped at a large glass window, looking into the room beyond. An alarming number of machines surrounded the bed where Sasha lay. Harry looked at Gavrik and was shocked to see tears coursing down his cheeks.

"Sasha..." he choked.

"Sir?" the doctor asked hesitantly. "Would you like to sit with him?"

Ilya nodded, unable to speak. Harry watched him enter the room and sit by the bed, taking Sasha's hand in his own, careful not to dislodge the IV. The doctor stood at the window with Harry.

"What are his chances of surviving?" Harry asked quietly.

The doctor hesitated before replying. "The bullet caused significant internal bleeding and he lost a massive amount of blood. I can't be sure that we repaired all of the bleeding during surgery; his condition was unstable and we almost lost him a few times. We repaired as much as we could but we need to stabilise his condition before we can risk any more surgery. If his condition doesn't stabilise we could lose him on the table. As it is..." The doctor sighed. "If he survives the next twenty four hours then he will have a chance."

Harry nodded, staring at Ilya. Things just kept going from bad to worse for the Russian.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry walked into Ruth's hospital room, feeling more nervous than he had in his life. It had been two days since the incident at the MOD bunker and Ruth was finally being released from the hospital. Harry had agreed to give her a lift home.

"Ready to go?" he asked, giving her an appraising look. She was already dressed in the simple blue dress that Harry had brought for her and looked happy to be going home.

"Absolutely," Ruth replied with a bright smile. "I've signed all the release papers so we can get going."

Harry nodded and held the door of the room open for Ruth to walk before him. They walked through the corridors of the hospital, slower than usual as a concession to Ruth's injury. As they reached the car, parked illegally outside the hospital, Harry cleared his throat.

"Would you... Er... Would you, erm, mind if we made a short detour on the way to your house?" he stammered, silently berating himself for his lack of eloquence.

Ruth stared at him for a moment before nodding her agreement, a look of bemusement on her face.

They stopped by the Thames, where they had met so many times in their career together. It was a place of memories, both good and bad. They sat on a bench, looking out over the river and Harry turned to Ruth, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves before speaking.

"Ruth," he started, cursing the slight tremor in his voice. "I know that this place has some bad memories for us. But that's why I thought that this would be the perfect place. I want to create new memories here. Good ones."

"Harry, what's going on?" Ruth asked, confusion written over her features.

He took another deep breath and slid off the bench, kneeling in front of Ruth. "Ruth. Will you marry me?"

Ruth gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. Despite their declarations of love in the hospital, she hadn't expected Harry to propose. But this time, there was no doubt of her answer. "Yes," she choked out, tears of joy forming in her eyes. "Of course I will!"

Harry thought his heart might burst with happiness at Ruth's words and his smile lit his face with delight as Ruth flung her arms around him. There were cheers and applause around them from people watching the little scene but Harry and Ruth were oblivious, too lost in their own happiness.

Meanwhile, at the Russian delegation hotel, Ilya Gavrik was trying to focus on political reports and failing. He was distracted by thoughts of his son, not helped by the frequent enquiries after Sasha's health. His son hadn't regained consciousness since he had been taken to surgery for a second time the day before. The doctors were worried about infection and the fever that had developed overnight.

Gavrik sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. With everything that had happened, he hadn't had time to really deal with his wife's betrayal and death. But now, it was hitting him hard. Elena had always been the one to help him cope when Sasha was injured, a comforting presence for both her husband and son. Now, Ilya had to deal with it on his own.

He had effectively been thrown out of the hospital by a nurse who had told him in no uncertain terms that visiting hours were over and that there were no exceptions, not even for Russian ambassadors.

"Sir?"

A young assistant pulled him from his musings and he realised that he had been staring at the same page of a report for fifteen minutes.

"Yes, Andrei, what is it?" His voice was hoarse and raspy from lack of use and the stress of the last few days.

"There's a phone call for you." The assistant paused, then added hesitantly. "How is Sasha, sir?"

Gavrik looked up in surprise at the use of his son's first name. "Do you know Sasha?"

The assistant bit his lip. "Sort of, sir. He used to talk to me when he was waiting for you outside meetings. He seems like a nice guy. For an FSB agent." The assistant blushed. "Sorry, sir, I didn't mean..."

Gavrik smiled. "It's okay." His smile slipped. "He's...holding on. He was badly hurt." He felt his throat constrict at the thought of Sasha lying in the ICU.

The assistant looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry, sir. I hope he gets better soon."

"Thank you, Andrei." Gavrik sighed as the assistant walked out and picked up the phone. "Ilya Gavrik."

Harry sat in Ruth's lounge, one hand holding a glass of wine and one arm draped over his fiancée's shoulders. His fiancée... He had wanted for so long to call her that. He felt a thrill of happiness every time he saw the subtle solitaire diamond ring on her left hand. It had almost been worth the pain and worry just to get to this point of total contentment. He stroked Ruth's dark hair and she curled up against him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The peace of the moment was shattered by the shrill ringing of Harry's mobile. He swore softly, shooting Ruth an apologetic look before picking up the phone. The caller ID read 'Ilya Gavrik'. Harry's brow furrowed in a frown as he answered.

"Ilya. What's wrong?"

Ruth watched Harry's face change from confusion to worry. He glanced at his watch.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

He stood quickly and grabbed his coat from the back of an armchair. Ruth also stood and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Harry, what's going on?"

Harry took a breath. "It's Sasha."


	5. Chapter 5

Harry and Ruth burst into the surgical waiting room. Spotting Ilya Gavrik in a chair in the corner, they hurried over.

"What's going on Ilya?" Harry asked. The Russian minister had been very vague over the phone but Harry had heard the muffled sobs and known that something serious had happened.

Gavrik looked up and Ruth gasped at the tears rolling down his cheeks. She sat down next to him and rested a hand on his arm, compassion winning out over previous animosity. "The doctors," he took a halting breath, "they wouldn't tell me much. Just that there had been complications and...to prepare for the worst."

Harry bowed his head, unable to find the words to comfort his old adversary as the Russian broke down, tears running thick and fast from his bloodshot eyes. Gavrik appeared to have aged ten years over the past few days and Harry found himself wishing for their verbal (and sometimes non-verbal) battles of old; anything over this shell of man that sat before him. He took the seat the other side of Gavrik and met Ruth's eyes, begging her to say something.

"Minister, from what I have seen of your son, he doesn't seem like he would give up without a fight." Quite the opposite, she thought. He seems the type to pick a fight anywhere he goes. He'd probably pick a fight with the Dalai Lama if he got the chance.

Gavrik shook his head. "No, but..."

"Then he's probably fighting tooth and nail to survive and recover. And when he does recover, you can both come to our wedding."

Gavrik looked up and glanced at Ruth's hand, noticing the sparkle of the engagement ring. He offered her a watery smile. "Congratulations. But what a shame that Harry got to you first."

Ruth laughed, as did Harry, who inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just remember, Ilya, I know you're a multi-millionaire. We don't expect anything less than a Fabergé egg from you as a wedding present."

Gavrik laughed, a weak, hoarse laugh, but one with genuine mirth. "I'll bear that in mind. Though I was thinking more along the lines of a toaster."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do Fabergé make toasters?"

They all laughed at that, a sound perhaps inappropriate for their current location but one that relaxed the tension between the three secret service agents. Gavrik appeared to glad of the company and a subject of conservation that took his mind off his son.

"Have you set a date yet?" he asked Ruth, ignoring Harry but making a mental note to ask Fabergé if they could make a toaster.

"Not yet," she replied. "We've started thinking about the guest list and the venue, though. We've decided not to get married in a church. I like the idea of a nice manor house in the New Forest. Harry wanted a castle." She shot him a look and he shrugged.

"Indeed. A manor house sounds beautiful. So who is on your guest list so far?" Gavrik asked.

"Dimitri, Callum and Erin. You and Sasha, of course. And Harry tells me that we may need to make room for your tortoise."

Gavrik smiled. "Very considerate of you, Harry."

Harry was about to make a sarcastic reply but was interrupted by the doctor's arrival. He looked tired and haggard but he was smiling slightly.

"Mr Gavrik?"

Gavrik stood, hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "How is my son? Is he..? Will he..?"

"He's alive. I won't say that he's okay because he has a long way to go but I'm optimistic." He motioned to the seat Gavrik had been sitting in. "If you sit down I can explain your son's condition more thoroughly. I know we were less than informative before."

Gavrik sat and the doctor pulled a chair around to sit in front of him. "Sasha had developed peritonitis; basically a post surgical infection. It's quite common with penetrating abdominal trauma. We tried to treat it with antibiotics but the infection was too severe so we had to operate to clear out the infection. His chances weren't good but the consequences of not operating would have been worse. However, the surgery was successful and he should make a full recovery."

Relief was written clearly across Gavrik's face as he shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you, doctor. Can I see him?"

"Of course. I'll take you to his room. He's still unconscious and will be for a while. His body is still recovering from the effects of the anaesthetic and infection."

Harry and Ruth watched Gavrik follow the doctor out of the room. He turned to her and embraced her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"I'm sorry about this," he murmured. "It wasn't exactly how I planned to celebrate our engagement."

They broke apart and Ruth smiled at him.

"I know. But we couldn't leave Gavrik on his own and we know that Sasha is going to be okay now."

"You forgive him then? For stabbing you?"

Ruth looked confused. "Of course. I don't think he meant to do it and seeing Gavrik like that... Anyway something good came of it." She smiled and held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers to allow the diamond to catch the light. Harry returned the smile, taking her hand and kissing it softly.

"Am I interrupting something?"

They turned to see Ilya Gavrik watching them with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes," Harry muttered and the smirk widened.

"How's Sasha?" Ruth asked, ever the peacemaker.

The smirk dropped. "He's...holding on. I know the doctor says that he won't wake up for a while, but I hate leaving him alone."

"You need sleep too, Ilya," Harry said reasonably.

Gavrik smiled. "I know. But..."

"Would it make you feel better if someone was with him while you get some rest?" Ruth asked.

*************

"Callum Reed."

"Callum, it's Harry. I need a favour."


	6. Chapter 6

The tapping of computer keys joined the rhythmic beep of the various monitors in the ICU room, courtesy of Callum Reed's laptop. He glanced up from the screen every so often, eyes flicking to Sasha's face, then abruptly returning to the screen. Callum hated hospitals. Not only were they full of sick people, but he was very squeamish about blood and guts and Harry hadn't exactly held back with the gory details. He had been horrified when Harry had asked him to sit with Sasha for an hour while he was with Ruth and Ilya Gavrik was sleeping but he had agreed. When he had arrived, he had been shocked. Sasha looked horribly ill, almost corpselike, and monitors and IVs took up most of the space in the room. Callum had considered running away but the thought of Harry's retribution persuaded him to sit in the uncomfortable chair and wait. His only comfort was that Harry had promised him that Sasha wouldn't wake up while he was there.

The sound of a weak cough tore Callum's eyes away from the laptop once again. His eyes widened comically as he watched Sasha's eyelids flutter open. He silently cursed Harry with every misfortune he could think of, up to, and including, all of the Plagues of Egypt. He quickly set the laptop aside and stood, stepping closer to the bed and trying hard not to trip over any of the wires or dislodge any of the tubes. He hovered uncertainly by the bed rail, unsure of what to do.

"You are one of Harry's team," Sasha said weakly. His eyes were half open, glazed and pain filled. The single sentence seemed to exhaust him and his eyes closed for a moment.

"Yes, my name's Callum," the techie replied, still unsure of what to do.

"What happened...?" Sasha's eyes closed again, his lips tightening in pain and Callum surveyed him worriedly, praying that the Russian wouldn't die on his watch and subsequently get him fired from Section D.

"Well, you got shot and-"

Sasha cut him off, one hand grabbing Callum's wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. "Ruth! What happened to Ruth?" He tried to sit up, one hand pressed to his stomach. The beeping from the heart monitor sped up; Callum put a hand on Sasha's shoulder, trying to push him back against the pillows.

"She's fine, she was discharged yesterday," he said hurriedly. "You need to stay still; if anything happens to you, Harry will kill me."

Sasha relaxed slightly and lay back against the bed. Despite the pain evident on his face, he looked mildly amused. "Your concern is appreciated."

The doctor walked into the room at that moment. He smiled.

"It's good to see you awake Mr Gavrik. You had everyone rather worried. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Sasha answered. Callum snorted, which earned him an amused glance from the doctor and a glare from Sasha.

"I think I'll have to be the judge of that," the doctor replied. He removed his stethoscope from around his neck and rested the bell of it on Sasha's chest, listening to his heart and breathing. Making a note on a clipboard, he addressed his patient.

"You went through two surgeries to fix the initial internal bleeding caused by the bullet. Unfortunately an infection developed and we had to operate again yesterday to remove the infection. We're still administering antibiotics but the infection seems to have cleared completely. I have to do a few more tests now you're awake but I think those can wait until you've seen your father. He has been very worried. I'll send a nurse to get him." The doctor gave another smile and left.

Callum stared at Sasha who didn't even seem fazed by the doctor's words. "How are you so calm about this? I nearly threw up when Harry explained it to me."

Sasha smiled. "I've had worse. I suppose I'm used to it now."

"I'm really glad I'm just a tech guy now. We tend to be able to avoid situations that end with us being cut open by a load of butchers." Someone cleared their throat behind him and Callum turned to see that the doctor had returned. "No offence."

"None taken," the doctor replied, one eyebrow raised. Ilya Gavrik rushed into the room as the doctor stepped aside to let him in.

"Sasha!" he cried and embraced his son, not caring about the tubes and wires everywhere. Sasha returned the hug. "My son, we all so worried. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Callum suddenly felt like an intruder and slipped quietly out of the room. He pulled out his mobile and dialled Harry's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Callum, is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine, Harry. Sasha's awake."

There was a relieved noise at the other end of the phone. "Thank you, Callum. We'll be right there."

Ilya Gavrik surveyed his son. Although still pale and ill looking, Sasha looked far better than he had only hours before. He held onto his hand tightly, as though trying to keep him anchored in the world of wakefulness. He could feel the hard plastic of the pulse-ox monitor on Sasha's finger and the IV line attached to the back of his hand. After the fear and concern of the last few days, Gavrik was just happy to see his son's eyes open.

There was a knock at the door. Gavrik turned and saw Harry and Ruth standing in the doorway. They entered the room and stood by the bed, next to the Russian minister. Sasha watched Ruth carefully, trying to assess how badly injured she was.

"Ruth..." he began but she interrupted.

"Sasha, everything's fine. I'm okay. You don't have to apologise." She put a comforting hand on his shoulder as she spoke, mindful of the ECG electrodes on his chest.

He smiled hesitantly. "Thank you. But even so, I am truly sorry."

"It's okay, Sasha." Her hand moved to his forehead. "You still have a fever. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he replied automatically. At Ruth's raised eyebrow he amended, "Tired. And sore. but I'm okay."

"Tired and sore is to be expected after three trips to the operating theatre," Harry put in. "Rest. You'll need it if you want to recover in time for the wedding."

Sasha smiled. "I noticed the ring. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Harry smiled. "Ruth is turning out to be an excellent wedding planner. And speaking of that, we need to be going. We need to arrange the engagement party."

As they left, Gavrik sat down in the seat by Sasha's bed. He still held onto his hand, not wanting to let go. Sasha was asleep again but Gavrik was no longer afraid of losing his son. For the first time in a while, he felt that everything would be okay.


	7. Chapter 7

The engagement party was a small affair. Harry and Ruth had decided to host the party at the house that Ruth had bought by the coast and had invited only five people: the three Section D officers and Ilya and Sasha Gavrik. Erin, Dimitri and Callum were already there, enjoying the nice Bordeaux wine that Harry had selected for the occasion. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful, everyone swapping stories of amusing events and simply enjoying each other's company.

There was a knock at the door and Harry went to answer it. Ilya Gavrik stood there with Sasha beside him. Harry smiled at them both and stood aside to let them in. Ilya returned the smile and shook Harry's hand and kissed Ruth on the cheek, Sasha merely inclined his head to them both. Ruth, enjoying her role as hostess, led them through to the lounge where the rest of the guests were sitting, laughing about one of Callum's university stories involving three medical students, a stuffed trout, a sheep skeleton and a couple of gallons of tequila. They looked up as the two Russians entered.

"Minister," Erin greeted as he sat in a chair next to her.

"Please, my dear, call me Ilya." He gave her a wide smile which she returned hesitantly. Sasha sat next to Callum, the furthest away from his father.

"A stuffed trout?" he asked quietly, smirking.

Callum grinned. "Oh yeah. Good times."

Ruth handed Gavrik a glass of wine. He inhaled the scent and sipped it, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. "Ah, beautiful. Not quite a Chateau Latour but an excellent bouquet."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm glad it meets with your approval, Ilya."

Ruth laughed and went to sit with Callum and Sasha, who had declined her offer of wine in favour of water. She hadn't seen Ilya and Sasha for a week when she and Harry had gone to visit him in the hospital again. He had left the hospital two days ago, a couple of weeks earlier than the doctors had approved of.

"How are you doing?" she asked him.

He glanced at her, seeing genuine concern in her expression, smiled. "I'm fine. How are you? Still on medical leave?"

"Yes, I have another two weeks left. I'm not complaining though, I get to plan the wedding without any distractions." She smiled ruefully. "Are you on medical leave now?"

Sasha shook his head. "No, something came up that I had to handle. I had to cut my leave short."

"You've only been out of the hospital for two days," Ruth protested.

Sasha held up a hand to stop her. "I've already heard this lecture from my father. 'you're not ready to go to work, you should rest, don't be an idiot...'" Ruth suppressed a smile at Sasha's surprisingly good impression of his father. He noticed and raised an eyebrow. "He's like a stuck record. Although the swear words change occasionally."

Ruth couldn't help but laugh despite her disapproval. "Well, we all need a bit of variety."

Erin stood and cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "I'd like to make a toast. To Harry and Ruth, who prove to us all that true love really does exist."

"To Harry and Ruth," everyone echoed, raising their glasses. Harry stood beside Ruth, taking her hand. She smiled up at him, expressing every bit of love and happiness that she felt in one expression.

The moment was broken by a mobile phone ringing. Everyone began searching their pockets for their phones until Sasha held up his mobile with a quick apology and stood, heading into the kitchen to take the call. Ilya Gavrik frowned and, muttering an 'excuse me' to Erin, followed his son into the other room.

Callum raised his eyebrows and glanced at Harry. "What's up with him?"

Harry frowned. "He's just worried about his son. He's going back to Russia tomorrow so he won't be able to keep an eye on Sasha and he's being a little over protective."

Sasha and Ilya returned to the lounge, once again taking their seats. Harry didn't miss the occasional glances that Ilya sent Sasha's way as he resumed his conversation with Erin.

************

"So then, Harry looks around and he says 'Has anyone seen my goat?'"

The room erupted with laughter and Harry shook his head. "Thank you for ruining any respectability that I have, Ilya."

Ilya Gavrik had been regaling them with tales of Harry's exploits in the 80s for the last hour, the stories getting more outrageous with the more wine the Russian consumed. Harry hadn't denied any of them yet, however. Everyone was enjoying the party; there had been no more phone calls and now the small group was sat around the coffee table, listening to each other's stories and discussing wedding plans.

"You just took yourself out of the running for being my best man," Harry told him. "I don't need any of your speeches at my wedding."

"It would liven it up a bit," Callum put in.

"I don't need my wedding livening up," Ruth said hastily. "It's going to be perfect. Erin and I are going dress shopping next week."

Harry smiled. "It will be perfect. You will be perfect."

They shared a smile and Harry kissed her softly on the lips.

"Oh, come on, get a room!" Callum protested. He winced as Erin elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"It's sweet," she told him. "So shut up."

Ruth and Harry broke apart and met each other's eyes. Ruth was right. Everything would be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this blast from the past! I will post the rest of this series to AO3, and who knows, maybe I’ll actually finish it!


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